Devil's Kiss

coffee and talking.

'I'll bet money,' John said, 'that Jimmy is telling the truth.'

'I agree,' Sam said, glancing at the Chief. 'He was with Best. But he doesn't remember it. Next question is, why doesn't he remember it?'

'And,' Chester spoke, 'why Jimmy? And why doesn't Jimmy like this Wilder fellow?'

Jane Ann abruptly tossed the book on devil worship and possession on the coffee table. It landed title-up, startling them all.

The Chief laughed. 'No, Janey, not that. I'm a Christian man—I think. Most of the time. But that,' he glanced at the book, 'is going way out in left field.'

Chester said nothing as his eyes caught Sam's, holding them for several seconds. Chester had something to say to the minister, but not in John's presence.

Faye looked worried, and, Sam thought, perhaps just a bit frightened. She, too, had something on her mind.

Sam left the others chatting of things of no importance, excusing himself, going to the bathroom. He passed by the bedrooms in the hall, the kids' bedrooms, Jack and Ruby. An odor hung faintly in the hall. Where had he smelled it? Then he remembered. Michelle's bedroom had the same odor.

On the way back to the den, Sam thought, what am I doing? Adding two and two and coming up with five? So there is an odor in the house. So what?

But why the same odor?

He had no answer.

'John?' Sam asked. 'How is the membership at your church holding up?' The Chief was a member of the Episcopal Church.

Why—' the man hesitated, 'come to think of it, it's down. Yes, down by quite a bit.'

Sam looked at Jane Ann. 'I don't want you to press charges, Janey. Just let this incident drop. I think it would be best. John has cautioned Jimmy not to say anything about it. Best won't mention it. But I've got a hunch Best will be behind another badge by this time tomorrow.'

'Not on my department, he won't!' John said.

'No,' Sam agreed. 'He'll be working for the Sheriffs Department.'

'Walter?' John was startled. 'Why would Walter hire Best after I've fired him?'

Sam toyed with his empty coffee cup for a moment. 'I'd like to ask you a few questions, John—if you don't mind. You have a few minutes to spare?'

'Fire away, Sam. I'd like to hear what's on your mind.'

'The sheriff is telling everyone that the FBI came in here, investigating the disappearance of Larry and Joan. Did they talk to you?'

The Chief shook his head. 'No, Sam, they did not.'

'Don't you think that strange?'

'Very. But I've kept my mouth shut about it.'

'Why?'

'Because—well,' his face tightened for a moment. 'You ask your questions, Sam, then I'll tell you my opinions, okay?'

'Deal. Now then, Bill Mathis says the FBI talked with him, at length, in his office at school. But Jane Ann knows that to be a lie. Mathis was clear across the state, at a meeting. So that makes him a liar. Why would he lie? Add this up, John: Joan was a student of Jane Ann's, yet the FBI didn't question her. Joan was a member of my church, but they didn't talk to me. Larry worked part-time for Chester, yet they didn't speak to Chester about it. Larry was a member of your church, but they didn't question Father Haskell or you. Your addition is as good as mine, John. The FBI didn't come in because they weren't notified.'

For a time, the Chief kept his eyes downcast, looking at the coffee table. He was deep in thought. Finally, he nodded his head. 'Yes, you're right, Sam—it stinks! It's bothered me for weeks; things I just can't seem to get hold of. And it's not just the kids. It's all these grave robbings, too. And nothing is being done about it. Then there is the general mood of this town. I've got a very bad feeling that something awful is going to happen. Call it a cop's hunch, if you will.'

'I know, John.'

'There's something else, too,' the Chief said. 'Walter told me a barefaced lie the morning the kids were reported missing. He told me he'd been to a sheriff s meeting the night before, just got in that morning. That's not the truth, Sam. There was no sheriff's meeting—I checked.'

'What made you check, John?'

'Because he volunteered the information to me, Sam—for no reason. His answers were too pat, and too quick. I never asked for any of them. It was as if he was trying to convince me of his innocence. But why should I even suspect he'd done anything wrong?'

'There's something else,' Chester spoke. 'I overheard Walter talking to one of his deputies yesterday. I was standing by my door at the store, just behind that display to the right of the front door. They were walking past, stopped, and didn't see me. I didn't catch all the conversation, but what I did hear froze me. Walter said, 'Does the Coven meet tomorrow night?' The deputy, Harris, said, 'Yes, at full dark, as always.' Excuse me, ladies, Sam, but Walter said, 'Joan had some good pussy.' The deputy laughed and said, 'Prime gash.' Then they walked on. I didn't know what to do, or even if they were talking about the missing Joan. I didn't sleep much last night. Tossed and turned. I'm glad I've got it off my chest. But Sam, what's a Coven?'

Jane Ann's eyes darkened as she stared at the book on devil worship and possession. She said nothing.

'You're sure they said Coven?' Sam asked.

'I think so, Sam.'

'And now you believe they were talking about young Joan?' John asked, ignoring the question about the Coven.

'Yes, I do, John.'

Sam made no more mention of the Coven, hoping that question would die. He wanted more time to think and act before answering that. Coven!

Jane Ann sat wringing her hands nervously.

John sighed. 'I've never seen such a dramatic change in a man as has occurred with Walter. All in the past six months. Never been one iota of gossip about him—until recently.' He shook his head. 'Call it a cop's intuition if you will, but I've suspected for some time that Walter knew more about those kids than he was letting on. Now, this.'

'Black Wilder,' Jane Ann said.

All eyes turned to her. 'What?' John asked.

'Nothing happened until he came in, bringing his dig crews. As soon as Wilder came in, things began happening. Strange things.'

'I agree with her,' Sam said. 'We talked about this a couple of hours ago. John, can you run a check on this Wilder?'

'I already have, Sam,' Benton replied. 'Weeks ago, as a matter of fact. I ran them all out at the Dig—just as soon as those kids were reported missing.'

'And?' Chester asked.

The Chief shrugged. 'Nothing. They're all clean. Oh, one thing did crop up: most of them belong to one of those kooky cults based in New York.'

'What kind of cult?' Sam asked.

'It's a church, or a religion, they claim. But I've never heard of it. It's called the Church of the Fifteen. Some kind of French words after that. What was it? Oh, yeah, Le Diable. That's probably the wrong pronunciation, my French is not very good. You ever heard of that church, Sam?'

'Yes, I have.' But he would not elaborate. Chester looked at him curiously. Jane Ann stirred, but said nothing.

The Chief rose to his feet. 'Well, I have a suggestion, folks. We've thrown a lot of assumptions around here this morning. A lot of hearsay, some gossip. But we haven't proven a thing, so let's just keep all this to ourselves. I'm going to call the FBI just as soon as I get back to my office. I'll find out if Walter notified them as he claims he